When My Time Comes
by CopperLovely
Summary: Left wounded and alone, Thrax is found by someone who offers him true compassion. Can he really return the same to her, or will he return to his old ways as soon as he doesn't need her to survive?
1. Chapter 1

**** Well, this is my first story uploaded to . Any reviews, comments, questions… any interaction I guess is welcome ^_^ I've been a part of , so I'm used to constructive criticism. I'd appreciate it very much if you like this story line if you'd tell me so, I do plan on continuing it. In return if there is anything of yours you'd like an honest and open review of, feel free to ask. Happy reading.****

He would die if she left him there, that much she knew. Alaya was also well aware, however, of who he was, and that he was an atrocious danger in his own right. The news had shown him countless times, and there could be no mistaking his identity. Thrax, the Red Death himself, had not perished outside Frank's body as everyone happily believed he had. Well, now everyone but Alaya.

She sighed at she stared down at his broken body. Why did he have to pick this spot to hide? Why her, she thought as she wished she had never stumbled across this particular soul in need. It was right along her usual route home from work. Grant it, it was not the safest way home, but it was quickest. Besides, there were few completely "safe" ways in the worst parts of the city for a common red blood cell trying to scrape by.

It was a very small alley way, big enough to hold only a dumpster and a few old signs that had been discarded of after they had ceased to be of use to some shop or another. Thrax was unceremoniously slumped with his back against one of the rough walls and his head leaning against the side of the dumpster. It looked as if he might once have been curled against the dumpster in an attempt to hide, but now his arms lay slack, one on the ground and one against his stomach, and his long legs lay sprawled in front of him. Part of his sickly purple dreadlocks were strewn forward, out of place, so that they draped over his face. He was barely breathing.

With a huff, she looked away. No, he wasn't just some pitiful injured cell. This was the virus who had almost succeeded in killing Frank. She had been cowering inside her home the day the now famous immunity cell, Osmosis Jones, barely managed to stop Frank from burning to death with his terrible fever. This was the virus who had caused all of that. How had he even managed to survive and make it back inside Frank?

Thrax's slow, rasping breaths drew her eyes back to him, and she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Despite all of that, leaving him here would be as good as murder. Feeling a mixed disgust with herself, Alaya came forward and knelt beside him. As she drew closer, she wrinkled her nose. The pungent, cloying smell of alcohol clung to Thrax. Gently, she reached out and put her hand on his arm. For a lack of anything better to say, she sighed, "Tough breaks all around, huh big guy?"

There was barely a hint of recognition when she spoke to him. What might have been a faint moan grated in his throat, but he was otherwise unresponsive. Great. She couldn't carry him. So she tried again to rouse him while attempting to be as quiet as possible so as not to draw attention to the usually insignificant alley. "Hey. You have to wake up." She shook him, and this seemed to bring about a pained response. He gasped, and his eyelids fluttered. "Come on. If you want to get out of here you have to wake up and help me get you on your feet. I can't carry you by myself." As she continued to gently prod him to awareness, Thrax leveled chilling yellow eyes on her. "You have to help me get you up," she repeated. His throat worked hard for him to swallow and he opened his mouth. Alaya instinctively leaned closer to hear him.

"B…burns," he managed to rasp. "Still..b-burning." His voice cost him dearly. A wretched cough was torn from his lungs that sent him gasping for air. Alaya quickly realized what he meant. The deadly alcohol still clung to him, his clothing, everything. It was hurting him, like an acid slowly torturing him until it would take his life. A new urgency spurred her on.

"Come on," she said stubbornly, as she lifted his arm and pulled it around her neck. She put all her weight into dragging him up. "You have to… get… up!" she grunted. Slowly, she helped Thrax struggle to his feet. "Ok, good," she whispered encouragingly. "It isn't far to my apartment, just hang on."

Slowly, agonizingly, one step at a time… they stumbled through backstreets, making their way toward her home, and trying to stay out of the way of curious eyes. Alaya herself thought she'd never make it… her legs and arms burned from the effort of trying to support him, and the smell of alcohol was almost unbearable. Finally, after what seemed like forever, they stood at the steps of her apartment. "We have to be quiet," she said as she opened the door. "My neighbors can't know you're here."

Ugh… the stairs. When Thrax's feet touched the edge of the staircase leading up to the second floor where she lived, he seemed to lose all will to continue. His head sagged even lower, and his feet ceased to move. "Come on, just a little further," she urged, taking the first step. "Ugh. I didn't bring you all this way to give up now. Do you want to die in a heap right here on the stairs of a two bit apartment in Frank? Come on…" her final words were almost pleading. Oh Frank… she couldn't watch him die. What had she done? What if he died in her apartment once she got him there? If she got him there…

Her gruesome ponderings were cut short as Thrax, trembling with the effort, lifted his foot and placed it on the first step. "That's it," Alaya encouraged him. "Almost there…" she repeated. It took several pauses before Thrax could make it all the way up the stairs. Hers was the first room on the left. Thrax nearly slid from her shoulder as she let him go momentarily to slip her key in the lock and shove the door open.

"Here," she gasped, breathing hard with the effort of half dragging him up the stairs and into her living area. "We're here now. This way," she tugged him carefully in the direction of her bathroom. "We've got to rinse this alcohol off of you."

After leading him into the bathroom she propped him against the wall and began unceremoniously peeling away his ragged clothing. Every inch of skin revealed made her feel more and more pity for him. His skin was raw, painful looking where he had been burned. He protested weakly, raising a trembling hand to try to ward hers away as she removed the last remaining tatters of his clothing. Instead of pushing his hand out of her way she took it gently for a moment. "It's ok, I'm only trying to help you. You're safe here. Just relax." Reaching out, she found a towel draped over the side of the tub, and this she tied around his waist to preserve his dignity.

Leaving him leaning against the wall for a moment, she turned quickly to turn the water on, lukewarm, and begin filling the tub. Then she quickly turned back to support Thrax, and guide him the short distance to the water. "Easy," she gritted through clenched teeth as she strained to lower him gently into the water. Halfway down, his strength gave out and he fell into the tub, hitting the bottom and splashing water over the side and onto Alaya and the floor.

Suddenly, Thrax was very alert. Alaya was shocked by his panic filled eyes as he scrambled, one arm clawing to hold to the side of the tub as he slid down. It was as if he were only just now aware of everything around him. The liquid had brought him back to his senses for a moment. He started to cry out but Alaya clamped her hand over his mouth. He reached out with his wickedly clawed hand, grasping desperately for her sleeve, and tearing it by accident in the process.

"Shh! Shh, shh, it's ok," she soothed. "Hush now, you're safe here but you won't be if my neighbors here you. Shhh." His grip on her arm slowly relaxed, and his eyes dimmed again, his eyelids fluttering low over his gaze. Alaya took her hand away from his mouth and gently slid it behind his head to ease him down into the rising water. "There… just let me help you."

As quickly as it had returned, his awareness faded away again. She turned the water off and let his damaged body soak for a while, removing the alcohol from his skin. Then she let the water drain, and took the shower head on its long flexible tube to rinse his body carefully as the rest of the water receded, washing away the remains of the stinging chemical. Last of all, she carefully took a rag and washed his face, and letting his head rest on one of her arms, used her other hand to gently wash his hair. As she ran her fingers through his locks, she watched his face. Every now and then an eyelid or the corner of his mouth would twitch. Alaya wasn't sure whether he was conscious or not. Either way, he didn't have the strength left to be very responsive.

Remembering his rasping voice and breath from earlier, she tipped his face toward her. "Here, rinse your mouth," she said softly, holding his head up to let water from the shower head drizzle slowly into his mouth. He may not have even heard her, but she angled his head forward so he wouldn't strangle on the running water. "Spit," she ordered, letting him lean forward to allow the water dribble from his lips and swirl down the drain with the rest.

When the task was finally done, Alaya turned the water completely off, and retrieved a clean towel from the rack on the wall. "Alright, one more move. You've got to get up, then I'll help you to a bed where you can really rest." She realized that the more she talked to him, the more gentle she let her voice become. She was supposed to be the tough girl. She had to be careful, had to take care of herself. But he was hurt so badly. No matter what happened later, right now he needed help. That much she could do for him.

"Come on," she coaxed yet again. She put her arm around his shoulders, pulling him forward so she could dry his face, neck, and chest with the towel. "Get up… you have to help me. That's it," she praised as he made a dim effort to raise himself. Standing, she put her arms under his and lifted from behind. After a moment of struggle with the slippery bathtub, Alaya managed to get him back up on his feet. Standing him back up against the wall briefly, she slid the now soaked towel down his waist, and as it hit the floor she reached over and took her massively oversized bath robe from its hook near the tub. It was nearly floor length on her, but he was quite a bit taller than she. However, it covered him well enough as she draped it around his shoulders and deftly tied it for him. It came only a little past his knees.

She took his wrists in her hands and pulled him forward, looping his arm over her shoulders as she did so, and led him across the tiny hallway into her single bedroom, where she lay him down in her unmade bed and pulled the blankets up over him. Thrax's eyes wandered weakly, and his brow furrowed as his gaze rested blearily on her face. "Wh… who…?"

"I'm just a red blood cell," she said quietly. "I know what it's like to be down on your luck I guess. So you're my guest until you're back on your feet."


	2. Chapter 2

****A little Thrax perspective in this part. Bleh, I had to reupload it because it didn't show my dividing lines between parts XP anyway, most of the story will be from Alaya's point of view, but a few things will be better through Thrax I think. I dunno, I guess some of Alaya's parts are in a rather omniscient tone. Oh well, let me know what you think ^_^ Happy reading.****

Thrax, completely spent, had fallen asleep quickly. After a moment of silently watching him from where she stood, Alaya decided to keep watch over him through that night. By herself, she managed to scoot the heavy, plush chair from her small living area into her bedroom. She was lucky; the arms scraped the sides of the narrow doorway as she shoved it through to position it beside the bed. Once she was finally done, she let herself fall into it with a sigh and slouched down to relax.

Her eyelids drooped heavily, but as she dimly watched Thrax sleep, she realized that he had begun to shiver. Stifling a yawn, she leaned forward and tugged her single extra blanket from the bottom of the bed and tucked it up close around him. As Alaya drew back, she brushed her hand along his angular cheek. Strange. He felt neither to warm nor too cold. With the extra blanket covering him, his shivering slowly subsided. It seemed that he had not the strength to curl up for warmth.

Thrax was still very week. In fact, Alaya was still not sure if he would make it, or what else to do for him. For now though, she was satisfied that she had done her best, and let herself slip into sleep in her ratty chair by his bedside.

*** At some point, Thrax was aware that the acrid smell of alcohol that had been clinging to him, suffocating the life out of him, was gone. He could breath easily again, although his throat was still quite raw. His mouth wasn't nearly as parched at least.

Water… yes. He remembered awaking, being dumped into a tub full of water. A shudder crossed his shoulders. That water… for a moment he had believed he was drowning in the beaker of alcoholic solution again. That was when he had come back to his senses to struggle; he did not want to die. Not like that.

Yet, it had been only water. And he had come to his senses to see a female cell. Vaguely, he knew he must have gotten there somehow. Was she the one? He could barely recall being forced to his feet in the dim alleyway. He had thought he'd had no strength left at all, but whoever had found him had harassed him until he'd gained his feet and dragged him all the way here. Wait… where was here?

Slowly, he allowed himself to think about his surroundings again. His mind, tortured beyond reason by the burning of the alcohol until it had been washed away, had turned inward, refusing to consider the pain that was slowly killing him. But now… now he no longer hurt. His devilishly red skin was still tender, but it didn't hurt the way it had.

His eyelids seemed unusually heavy as he forced them open. The room was dim, but his eyes quickly adjusted. Before him sat the same red blood cell he'd seen before. Immediately he was on the alert. What kind of person watched a guy sleep? Then he realized that she herself was snoozing peacefully, and he hypocritically took the opportunity to watch her, judging what kind of threat she might prove to be. With some amount of difficulty, he managed to push himself up ever so slightly, so that his back was resting against the pillows mashed against the headboard of the creaky bed. He grimaced. As weak as he felt right now, a baby virus could probably do him in. ***

Sometime during the night, Alaya awoke blearily to find piercing yellow eyes glaring weakly at her from her bed. For a moment her heart raced uncomfortably in her chest before she remembered the events of the earlier evening. That's right… Thrax. She had rescued the murderous Thrax and was keeping him in her bed. How lovely. A hysteric laugh almost escaped her throat but she choked it back.

"You're awake," she breathed. A slight nod was her only reply as she edged forward in her seat. "How are you feeling?"

Thrax had managed to sit up against his pillows a bit. He glanced away, down at the robe and blankets covering him, before setting his eyes back on her. "Obviously." His voice still rasped weakly, but it seemed defensive somehow.

Deciding to ignore his tone, she smiled hesitantly. Her stomach chose this moment to growl loudly, and she blushed slightly. Then she realized…

"Oh, you must be hungry!"

A smirk twisted Thrax's lips. "Sounds the opposite to me."

Alaya chuckled. "I was too busy taking care of you to eat. I didn't think you were going to make it there for a minute," she said on a more serious note. "Anyway, I know you must be hungry. It's been days since…" her eyes widened and she cut herself short in mid sentence. _Since you tried to flee Frank's body and almost died,_ she thought.

Thrax scowled. "You know who I am." It was not a question.

Alaya nodded slowly.

"Then wh-why did you bring me… here?" Just trying to speak forcibly was quickly wearing him down. She reached out for his arm but he tried to draw back, weakly raising his deadly claw.

"Don't do that," Alaya reprimanded, "you're wearing yourself out. You need to rest." Thrax's chest was heaving with exertion. "I brought you were because you were hurt. Don't you remember?"

His glare softened momentarily and he looked away from her. "Not much," he admitted. His troubled face only made her feel worse for him. How could she feel sympathy for the virus who had nearly destroyed her and everyone else in Frank only a number of days before? But she did.

"I think you were almost dead when I found you, Thrax." His name rolled off her tongue with surprising ease. They were already at the understanding that she was aware of his nature anyway. "It's no surprise that you can't remember the trip here. You were really struggling."

After a moment of awkward silence, Alaya got to her feet. She wished to just reach out and touch his hand, reassure him that he was safe here, but it felt awkward now that he was awake. That was almost comical; she had literally bathed him and now was loath to touch him. "Well… I'll get us something to eat."

With that she made her retreat to the kitchen, where she opened a can of something akin to broth and heated it on the stove before pouring the contents into a bowl and ran a glass of water, and bringing them uneasily back to her room where Thrax lay. His eyes were closed, but they lazily flicked open when she entered.

"Here," she said as she sat on the edge of the bed beside him. "This will be good for you while you're still weak…"

"I am not weak," Thrax snapped, pushing himself to sit up a little more. It was clear that Alaya had offended him. "I'm Thrax baby. I'm the badest virus this body has ever…" His outburst cost him dearly. A rough cough was torn from his tired body, followed by more. It was as if he couldn't stop. He doubled over, trying to get his breath.

Alaya placed the soup on her tiny nightstand and put her free hand on his back. "Drink," she said, offering him the glass of water. She held it for him has he tried to suppress the coughing, and tipped it to his lips. After a moment of sputtering, Thrax managed to get some of the water down and his coughing ceased. In the back of his mind, a dim memory surfaced of someone running their fingers through his drenched locks… dribbling water into his parched mouth…

"There," Alaya said, satisfied. He was looking at her strangely. "Are you ok?"

Startled out of his revere by her question, Thrax cleared his throat and nodded.

Alaya placed the glass on the table and reached for the bowl. Without exchanging words, Thrax accepted it as she held it to his mouth, and sipped the savory liquid. He hadn't realized how hungry he really was until the broth hit his stomach and it twisted painfully, goading him to drink more quickly, filling his need for nourishment.

Once Thrax was done, Alaya placed the bowl beside the glass and helped Thrax ease his head back down onto the pillows. He seemed much less hostile now, she noted.

He sighed as his body settled in against the sheets. Again, his strength was completely spent. "I'm so tired babe." Alaya's heart wrenched for him. It sounded almost as if he were admitting defeat. Pushing past her aversion, she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright, I know." Instinctively, her hand moved to his hair. That was how her mother used to comfort her when she was a little cell, when she was hurt or scared. "Just rest. You're safe here." She stroked his hair gently until Thrax drifted again into restless sleep before going to find food for herself.


	3. Chapter 3

**A shorter chapter with a (hopefully) surprising ending XD I would liked to have added more to this chapter, but it will have to wait for the next as I've been busy trudging through pre-finals week _ Until then, I hope this is somewhat entertaining to someone out there ^_^**

Morning came. Thrax and Alaya both slept through it. Alaya's shift at work was the later in the day. She took her time when she awoke, even though she had slept longer than usual. Quietly, she took clean clothes from her closet and crept out of her room, careful not to wake Thrax.

After a quick shower she felt somewhat refreshed, although the muscles in her arms and legs were somewhat sore. _I must really need to work out more if one evening of dragging a half-dead virus home wears me out that badly_, she thought with a smirk. When she donned her clean clothing, she examined the blouse she'd been wearing the day before with a sigh. As terrible as she was at it, she'd have to try to sew up the sleeve where Thrax had ripped it. With a shrug, she tossed it in the laundry basket she kept in the corner, and made her way into the small kitchenette that was part of her apartment.

After noting that she would have to be more careful with her budget and food while she was providing for two, she proceeded to make breakfast for herself and Thrax, even though it was more like lunch time. Shortly after the food began to smell tempting, she heard her bedroom door creak open. Startled, she turned the stove off and darted past her living room to the short hall that branched off to her bathroom and bedroom. Thrax stood in the bedroom doorway, resting on the frame.

"What are you doing?" Alaya blurted, shocked that he had managed to stand and walk on his own. Merely the day before it had taken all of her strength and his just to get him on his feet.

He held out his relatively normal hand to stop her as she reached toward him. "I'm going to the bathroom. I am not completely inept," he growled.

Alaya raised her hands, palms forward in an 'I give' gesture. "Be my guest," she told him, and saying so, turned and strode back into the kitchen. "Since you're so hardy, bring yourself to the table after you're done and you can eat," she called back over her shoulder.

While she finished breakfast, Alaya listened carefully for him to enter and exit the bathroom, which as far as she could hear he did without much trouble... she didn't hear him fall at least. Painfully slow, he made his way into the kitchen and leaned on the table.

Thrax rested his clawed hand against the table top and one on the back of the first of two small chairs pushed up around it. He leaned heavily on them for support, his arms trembling. Respecting his need for his own pride, Alaya stood back and let him struggle with the chair himself. When he finally managed to seat himself, he was struggling for breath, but Alaya made no comment. Instead, as she finished breakfast she deftly slid the contents of the skillet she'd been using onto two plates evenly, placed the skillet back on the stove, and slid one of the plates in front of Thrax, passing him a fork before she took her place on the other side of the table.

For a long moment, Thrax stared at his plate before tiredly dropping his hand onto the fork and curling his fingers wearily about it.

"My clothes are ruined," he sighed.

Alaya grimaced. His alcohol-tattered garments were still lying in a heap on the bathroom floor where she'd left them. "It's alright, we'll find others for you," she assured him. For some reason, this seemed to strike a sensitive chord in Thrax.

"I can't replace that coat! Are you dense?" he hissed. "I'm an air-borne pathogen. It's a mark of my trade."

For the first time since she'd found him, a spark of anger flared. Alaya had not felt angry at him even knowing that if he had succeeded in the plot that had almost killed him, he would have destroyed the city of Frank and her with it, without feeling a drop of remorse for his crimes. But _no one_ was going to insult her intelligence.

"Hey! You listen here. I saved your _life_ you ungrateful piece of waste. If it weren't for me, your body would still be lying by that dumpster. I fully understand what you are, and I understand that if I had been in the same position you wouldn't have given me a second glance." As she ranted she advanced on him. "I struggle every day to make ends meet, but here I am providing for you, and I fully intend on buying you new clothing as soon as I leave work this evening. On top of that, God only knows what they'd do to me if the immunity ever found out that I was aiding a virus." By this point, her finger was brandished dangerously in his face.

Thrax's anger was almost tangible. His eyes narrowed as his lip curled in rage. With a surprising burst of force he pushed himself up from the table, brandishing his long claw at her menacingly. "No one disrespects me. You have no IDEA what I'm capable of. When I enter a body, I run the place. Do you understand, you little…" Suddenly his voice faded. He was looking at his hand in horror. Alaya had flinched back at his tirade, but now she too looked with interest at his claw as he examined it incredulously. "Wha…. What have you done to me!" he howled.

"SHH!" Alaya hissed. "If any of my neighbors aren't at work they'll hear you!"

"My hand… what did you do to me?" his voice was lower, but still frantic.

"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything to your…"

Thrax brandished his claw in her face, but this time it wasn't a threat. He was trying to get her to see something. Alaya looked at the menacing claw with wide, innocent eyes, glancing between it and Thrax's panicked expression. Slowly, her memory began to register what was different. She remembered seeing pictures of Thrax on the news, some were merely suspect drawings. But there had been something more eerie about him before….

Finally it clicked. His long claw did not glow. It did not exude any heat as she'd heard it supposedly did. This was what had sent him into such distress. Her eyes widened slightly and her mouth dropped open. "You aren't contagious anymore," she breathed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Success! Finals are over, bwahahaha. Now back to writing. A big thank you to all those who've shown their interest in this, my first, fan-fiction story ^_^ It is much appreciated and encouraging. I have so many things in mind for this story, and I actually have pre written a part for later use, not that it helps right now =/ I must resist the urge to keep skipping ahead and writing, or we'll never get there XD I promise there will be a little more action in the upcoming chapter.**

When Alaya left to go back to work later that evening, Thrax was still on the sofa in the living area of her apartment. After their somewhat disconcerting discovery about his previously infectious claw, he had withdrawn into silence, eaten little, and refused to move farther than the sofa rather than going back to bed to rest. Unable to reason with him, Alaya had dressed for work – a white ruffled blouse and black pants - and left him there, telling him approximately when she'd be back.

After the events of the previous day, returning to her job at the bar seemed practically mundane. When she stepped in the door though and relieved the bartender on duty, she was reminded how much her work disgusted her. Just a little, low-life bar called "The Watering Hole". Watering hole indeed. Most of the customers were little better than animals. Aside from that the name didn't make too much sense, but it didn't matter. The customers weren't concerned with humor or finery. Germs, cells, bacteria, they were all the same to the manager as long as they brought in money. It was the same, day in and day out. Mix drinks, serve the customers no matter who they were, make eyes at the men to inspire them to buy more drinks and leave better tips, while constantly avoiding the line of flirtation that would attract too much unwanted attention. It was part of her job to dress femininely, but she played down her appearance as much as possible. Her outfit was much the same every day; some form of white shirt and either black pants or a long black skirt. The white stood out well enough in the grungy, backstreet bar.

Her shift was uneventful. As usual, the light was starting to fade as she left the bar. She had to rush to make it to the nearest store. Despite his attitude, she had promised Thrax a new set of clothing, and she intended to keep her word. Looking around in the small store, she bit her lip. A female cell with arguably too much bright makeup on leaned against the counter, lazily flipping through a magazine. "Store closes in 30 minutes," the woman said, obviously hinting that Alaya should make her choice quickly.

Thrax was taller than most cells, so it took a bit of searching to find what she was looking for. Finally however, she found a pair of black pants that she imaged would fit him, and a dark blue shirt that she hoped would be long enough. Bringing them to the counter, she reluctantly handed the clerk money from her purse and quickly left, wishing the woman a nice day even as she was shooed away without concern.

From there she went straight home, back to her apartment and her unusual guest. When she opened the door, she wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but found him reclined in ease on her sofa, alternately sipping water and humming a soft jazz tune to himself. He lifted his eyes with a smirk as she walked in carrying the bag with his new clothing. "Welcome home, baby." He seemed to have regained most of his voice, along with some of his natural bravado.

Alaya simply made a face at him and tossed the bag onto the couch beside him. Without question he reached for the bag and laid the clothing out for his appraisal. "Not exactly my style," he concluded after a moment, "but they'll do for in the meantime."

Rolling her eyes, Alaya plopped down on the other end of the ragged sofa. "You should be in bed resting," she reprimanded.

Thrax shrugged, and winced mildly at the motion. "I did for a while. A virus can only sleep so long, baby. I'm hurt, not sleep deprived."

Even though his attitude still irked her, he seemed much more friendly… or at least agreeable, than before. "Whatever you say," she replied as she took the remote from the stained coffee table and began to flip through television channels. "And my name's not 'baby', it's Alaya." A few minutes passed. Alaya kept her eyes focused on the TV while Thrax thoughtfully brushed his thumb over the new, blue shirt as he held it. Finally, he spoke.

"Tell me what happened, Alaya," he said evenly. "How did you find me… how did I get here?"

Alaya's eyes fluttered down away from the screen, and slowly up to him. "I was walking home from work yesterday." She wasn't entirely sure whether or not he was aware of the amount of time that had passed. "You were beside a dumpster in an alley that I use as a shortcut sometimes." As she related the events leading to Thrax's presence in her home, he listened intently, seeming much more calm and collected now.

At the conclusion of her story, Thrax nodded minutely, giving away no hint of what he thought about anything. Alaya expected no thanks, nor did she receive any.

"Where do you work anyway?" Thrax eyed her as if evaluating her career prospects in this part of Frank.

Looking back at the television, Alaya replied, "I work at a bar. The Watering Hole," she added when he gave her an incredulous look.

"Strange. You don't look much like the bar type to me," he sneered.

"It wasn't my first choice." Her voice held little protests despite the teasing tone of his voice. Yeah, she'd had other plans, but she hadn't had the money or time for any of them straight out of high school, and had been stuck, working at whatever job she could find ever since. The whole bar thing seemed to have stuck. She was good with customer service, although she had hoped it might have been put to use as a manager at some store in the better parts of Frank.

"Ah."

Another short silence ensued, and then…

"So what do you intend to do about me here? Turn me in, in a few days?"

Alaya shook her head. "I don't know… I don't think so." Her voice was uncertain. "Will you try to hurt Frank again once you're well again? Or… can you?"

A silent snarl twisted his lips. "I don't know," he growled. Then he sighed. "The alcohol must have altered me in some way… it's disinfectant quality changed something about my chemical make-up that altered the way my body works." A shiver accompanied his words. "It's a strange feeling. I had noticed it before but I thought it was because I was… weak." He swallowed, his throat still a bit dry and raw. "I'm used to the heat, feeling the power of the fever in my body." His hands clenched as he spoke and his shoulders drooped. "I can't feel it anymore… I'm so cold."

Alaya's brow creased as she turned to him, reaching across the space between them to brush her hand across one of his. He flinched as if startled and glanced warningly at her, but it didn't frighten her. "You don't feel cold," she informed him kindly. "Even last night when I brought you here, you were shivering but you didn't feel hot or cold. This is a normal temperature for a cell."

"For a cell," he repeated, the irritation plain in his voice.

"You could be dead," she reminded him softly. "Be grateful for what you have, it could be a lot worse. Trust me, it will be alright. You'll get used to it after a while. Until then, you're free to use my blankets and make yourself comfortable here."

His eyes met hers, and she took the chance to study their feral, yellow depths. Slowly, he nodded. For some reason, that nod send chills down her spine. It was as if it were an unspoken agreement. Her home was officially the haven for this villainous male virus, and there was no backing out now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Well… this sort of took on a life of its own =\ It's not exactly how I planned, but the idea is basically the same I suppose. I dunno, let me know what you think XD And it's not over yet, more harrowing experiences yet to come for Thrax and Alaya!**

Weeks passed. Alaya went about her life as usual, except now she was feeding and sheltering the most infamous virus the city of Frank had ever known. She went to work every day and returned home at the usual times. Meanwhile, Thrax grew stronger every day, until finally he was well again. However, he did not offer to leave, and Alaya did not push him to go. Having someone else around had only served to remind her of how alone she was. Her family was gone, and many of her schoolmates had either gotten a lucky break and moved on to something better, or fallen by the wayside and into crime or poorer conditions than she. Some people might say that it was lonely at the top, but Alaya would have to disagree. Somewhere in the middle was a terribly lonely place to be. She had grown accustom to Thrax's presence and used to his occasional humming, and it made her place in life somewhat less lonely.

Despite her growing fondness of Thrax's presence, it was also putting a strain on her budget. Barely making ends meet before his arrival, her savings were now quickly spent. While she had money set aside to pay the rent at the end of the month; that was untouchable. She always set that aside first as soon as her paycheck allowed it, because without that particular payment made she knew she'd be on the street.

Trying to stretch her budget, Alaya began to eat less. She couldn't slip this by Thrax.

"Why aren't you eating?" he asked suspiciously one day as she handed him a sandwich for breakfast.

"I'm not hungry." Her lie was meant to casually blow off his question, but he wrinkled his nose.

"You're lying to me."

Alaya sighed. "I'm a little pressed for money right now, that's all. I've set back enough for rent but I'm having to cut back on other things. I'll get another paycheck soon."

"Hmm." Decisively, Thrax pushed his plate across the table to her. "I think it's time I started going out on my own again."

Alaya's heart sank, but she knew he was right. Someone like him could not stay cooped up in a small apartment forever. What he would do when he left, she did not know.

He did not leave until she did that evening, heading out for work. She wanted to ask him where he was going, what he was going to do, but couldn't find the words. Was she going to have to worry for her life again soon with him gallivanting about the city of Frank wreaking havoc? Instead, she offered him a shy smile. "Well… goodbye," she said lamely.

In return, Thrax smirked, a strange half smile. "Bye, baby." Then he turned and was quickly gone, slipping away down a side street and out of sight. Alaya went back to her job as usual, letting herself think slowly about the fact that what would probably be the most adventurous act of her life was done. It was strange. Her mind was distracted, pondering the surreal nature of the situation. The red death himself had been her guest, and no one would ever believe her. Not that she could tell anyone anyway.

That day she spilled a few drinks, uncharacteristic of her usual performance, and it earned her curses from customers and a stern reprimand from the owner of the bar, to whom she apologized and explained that she wasn't feeling well. That wasn't exactly true. It should, after all, be a good thing that Thrax was gone. When Alaya returned to her apartment, she was greeted by emptiness. Having expected as much, she plopped down on the sofa and curled herself up legs and all on it to relax alone.

She must have fallen asleep, because she awoke in a panic to hearing the door to her home shutting. Someone was inside. How? She hadn't unlocked the door, everything was how it was supposed to be. Looking up, she found Thrax standing just inside the closed door.

"Hey baby. You aren't usually asleep at this hour." He grinned and Alaya's mouth dropped open.

"I-I thought you were leaving…"

Thrax chuckled. "Are you trying to kick me out?"

"N-No I just…"

"Where else would I go?" he asked as he dropped onto the opposite end of the sofa. "I didn't mean I was leaving for good. I just need to get out and do some work on my own."

More awake, Alaya finally realized something. "How did you get in?"

His uneven grin answered her. "I borrowed your spare key."

"Ugh." She wrinkled her nose at him. Great. Now she had no idea what he was out doing, but whatever it was, he was returning to her home at the end of it. Whatever it was, it probably was not legal. He couldn't be seen in the city of Frank by any authorities who would recognize him. "Don't scare me like that next time." Crossing her arms, she scrunched back down into her comfortable position and closed her eyes. Thrax's soft chuckle haunted her dreams.

For the next week or so, Thrax continued going out as she went to work. Sometimes he was back before her, and other days he was in later. One night though, he didn't return. He came in early the next day, as Alaya was preparing to leave for work, and tossed a fat envelope down on the coffee table in front of her.

A lump rose in Alaya's throat. "Thrax… what is that?"

He merely smiled as he took his now usual place on the sofa and stretched out, resting his arms behind his head. With no reply, Alaya reached for the envelope and opened it. Inside was a substantial amount of money… more than a month's pay for Alaya. Her stomach twisted.

"Thrax _where_ did this come from?"

Sensing the displeasure in her voice and not understanding it's source, Thrax sat up slowly, looking strangely at her. "It's to help out… pay your rent, buy things you need…"

By now Alaya's voice trembled. "But where did you get it?" she demanded.

"Why does it matter?" he growled. "Just take it."

"Thrax, I _can't_. What did you do?" She held the envelope at him, brandishing it at him angrily. Deep down she knew that he had not come by this amount of money in such a short time by honest means. "I'm not a criminal. I'm not taking this. Take it back…"

Thrax burst to his feet. "I can't just take it back!" he yelled, earning a shushing sign from Alaya, ever concerned about the neighbors overhearing. "I can't do that," he repeated in a dangerous hiss. "I didn't steal it if that's what you're worried about."

To her surprise, Alaya found her eyes watering, but she held back the tears of frustration. "It doesn't matter, Thrax. If whatever you did for it was illegal, it wasn't right." Honestly, she was horrified at what lengths Thrax could have gone to in order to do anything in the body of Frank.

"You're hiding a convicted criminal, that's illegal," he snapped.

Alaya placed her hand over her eyes, holding her temples with her thumb and forefinger. "I have to go to work." Her voice was icy and even. "I'd like the money to be gone when I get home. I don't care what you do with it, just get rid of it."

With that, she turned and exited the apartment, leaving Thrax staring after her in disbelief.

Much later that evening, Thrax was pacing the floor. He had managed to offend the only friend he had in Frank, and now she had failed to return from her job as usual. Alternately, he worried about where she was and then berated himself for his worry. Sure the girl was nice, but had he really let his guard down that much, that he was distraught over her absence?

"Think about it, you could have the place all to yourself. A headquarters, maybe start a new gig." No matter how hard he tried to convince himself, the idea just wasn't very appealing. "Gah. Where a_re_ you?" he hissed.

Finally, he'd had enough. What was he doing wearing a hole in the carpet here? He was _Thrax_. He had owned these streets not too long ago. If he wanted to go out and find some cell, then he very well could. So, that was what he set out to do. Key in pocket, he whisked out of the apartment in a rush.

The truth was, Alaya had been kept over at work because the cell who was supposed to relieve her didn't show up until hours after their shift had begun. As a result, it was unpleasantly dark when she left the bar. Making her way home, she wondered vaguely if Thrax would still be there. If she were entirely honest with herself, it would probably be better if he were gone. She had already risked so much for him, and while his gesture had been a polite one in his eyes, she didn't need the trouble that illegal money could bring.

Lost in thought, she turned quickly down her shortcut, the alley where she had found Thrax. It was at that moment that she decided she would never use this way home again. First it brought her Thrax. Now a pair of ghoulish purple eyes was leering at her from the duskiness.

"Now what's a proper doll like you doing out here so late?" As the bulky germ stepped forward, Alaya cringed, halting in her steps. He was taller than she, although not quite as tall as Thrax, with broad shoulders and a blocky frame. His skin was sickly pale for a germ… green, but with a gray undertone.

"Just going home." She spoke automatically, taking a few steps backwards. The alley wasn't that big, if she bolted now maybe she could make it back out onto the street into the public eye. Well… what public there was walking about at this hour.

The germ's next chuckle made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. "Not yet you aren't."

Alaya bolted. Spinning away, she made a dash back the way she'd come. The germ, however, was surprisingly quick for his size. His hand gripping the back of her flowing blouse stopped her, jerking her backwards. She shrieked in anger and fear, but either no one was around to hear or no one cared, and the germ's thick fingers wrapped over her mouth, silencing any further protest. Any attempt to wriggle away was quelled as he shoved her against the wall, turning her to face him, with his hand still clamped over her lips.

"Be nice," he warned with a grin that revealed unappealing yellow teeth, "and I might let you live when I'm done…"

A jolt of fear cut through Alaya, but before the reality of what was happening could even set in, a tall figured slipped into the alley.

The germ never saw it coming. A deadly sharp claw slid into his side and a howl of pain was torn from his lips as he half turned to try to fend away his assailant.

Alaya shrank away in the background, staring in horror at Thrax as he shoved the groveling germ to the ground. There was an unfathomable depth of rage on his face. His lip was curled back in a terrible snarl. "You think you're tough, huh? DO YOU?"

The germ shook his head hurriedly. "N…n-n-no boss."

Thrax's eyes widened. Boss? He was stunned. The germ that lay bleeding on the ground before him was one of the last he'd recruited in the city of Frank. His stomach lurched uncomfortably. These were the kind of creatures he worked with?

With a sudden movement, he drove his claw into the surprised germ one last time, forcing him to breath his last.

For a long moment, Thrax stood in his position over the body. He realized for the first time that his chest was heaving. Gathering himself back together, he swiped his hair back out of his face with his clean hand, let out a deep breath, and stooped to wipe his claw clean on the germ's clothing before slowly turning back to Alaya. Without question, he was at a loss for words.

She had angled away from the wall, as if contemplating whether or not to run away, but was standing stiffly, watching him. A poor reader of emotion, he couldn't discern the look on her face, but he knew that she had to be frightened. He stepped toward her, but too quickly. Alaya backed away, and finally Thrax found his voice.

"Are you alright?" he managed to stifle the "baby" that he was accustom to tagging onto the end of things when addressing her. Her jerky nod answered him, and then her eyes traveled down to her hands. They were shaking. "It's just your body coming down off the adrenaline," he assured her, stepping closer to take her hands. "Don't worry."

Both of them simply looked at each other. A tear slid slowly down Alaya's cheek, and Thrax struggled with the strange, twisting emotions churning in his gut. Finally, Alaya extracted one of her hands from his reached up and scrubbed at her face with a hand. Her voice trembled noticeably as she said, "Let's go home."


	6. Chapter 6

**FINALLY a new chapter… I'm very sorry it took so long. I know exactly where I want to go with this story and I haven't been particularly busy but… I just lost my will to write for some reason :\ I've been reading some books for a professor and they're just draining the life out of me. Next chapter coming soon… hopefully XD Anyway, I hope you still enjoy it despite my absence ^_^**

The very next day, Thrax somehow managed to acquire a box of black hair dye. When he presented it to Alaya with his plan, she was somewhat skeptical.

"I need an honest job if you aren't going to let me do it any other way," he explained. "This along with a new wardrobe should be enough to hide me for the time being. Everyone but you happily believes I burned alive outside the city of Frank."

Alaya didn't know where a virus like Thrax was going to find an 'honest job' in Frank, especially now that they had a new mayor who was actually attempting to do some good for the body, but she didn't question him. She was still shaken from the events of the previous evening, and dreading returning to her job.

After a few moments of preparation, Thrax was sitting in a chair, shirtless in front of her bathroom mirror while she drenched his thick locks in the dark die. A substantial drop of the black goop dropped onto the back of his neck. "Oops," Alaya said, firmly concentrated on the task at hand. She used her fingers to carefully scoop up the escaped product and pat it back onto his hair.

The swipe of her slender fingers across the back of his neck sent a subtle shiver down Thrax's spine. Again, he wondered why he was doing this. He still could not exactly place what it was about this red blood cell that affected him so. While he would never admit it out loud, not to her or anyone else, he wanted to do this for her… wanted to help her in some way after how she had helped him. Besides, what else was he going to do with himself now that he could no longer infect bodies? It wasn't the first time he had considered that. For now, the best course of action seemed to be remaining with Alaya, and to do whatever he could to aid her in the mean time.

"There." Alaya's voice broke into his thoughts. "In about 20 minutes you can rinse it in the shower, and you should have black hair."

With a nod, he stood, and turned in various ways to look distastefully in the mirror at the mess on his head. A giggle escaped Alaya as she peeled off the rubber gloves she'd been using and tossed them into the trash can. "It won't look so bad once you've washed it."

"Ha… ha," he drawled sarcastically. "Oh," he suddenly said, his voice lightening. "I have something for you too."

Wondering what this unexpected gift could possibly be, Alaya followed him back into the living area where he picked up the sack from which the comical black dye had come. "I want you to take this, and keep it on you at all times." Her throat tightened as he handed her a sizable knife with a small black handle that seemed made for the size of her hands, and an ominous black leather sheath. Her wide eyes looked from the weapon, back up to Thrax's face.

"I want you to keep this on you at all times." With the tip of his long claw, he touched the sheath, moving it in her hand so that she had to grip the handle to keep from dropping it. A satisfied smile split his face. It was only now that Alaya was beginning to learn that Thrax had two distinct types of smiles. He did have a warm, happy smile as most did, but he also had _this_ smile. This deadly, sly grin. "No one would suspect this of a cell like you. If someone ever tries to hurt you again," his voice rose to a snarl, "gut them. Just like I did."

Alaya's face paled, and Thrax realized he may have said the wrong thing, but he cupped his hand with his still deadly, simply no longer infectious, claw over her shoulder gently. "You would be able to do it if the time came, trust me. You have to be able to defend yourself and this, aside from a gun, is the best thing." Alaya nodded her understanding, and he showed her how to hide the weapon under her clothing so that she could carry it with her concealed. There was more he wanted to say, but he didn't know how to. He wanted to tell her that he didn't want her to get hurt, that he'd tear this city apart for her if something should ever happen to her. But he didn't know why he should feel that way about a red blood cell, and he didn't particularly want to discuss it with her at this moment.

A bit later, Thrax retreated to the shower to rinse the black goo from his hair while Alaya sat alone on the sofa in the living area, toying with the hilt of the dagger where it was tucked under her loose shirt. She realized, slowly, that it was a kind gesture for Thrax. It was his way of extending his protection to her even when he was not present, the same kind of protection he had provided her last night. A shudder trailed down her spine, unable to think of how badly things might have gone had Thrax not found her in time. She still had not asked him what he was doing when he found her.

The water in the bathroom turned off, and Alaya watched the door expectantly. There were a few quiet moments while Thrax dried and dressed, and then he emerged with his new, jet black hair. If it was possible, he looked even more menacing, but his smile didn't match his imposing stature. "How does it look?"

"Not too bad," Alaya told him honestly, genuinely appraising his appearance. He was not ugly, that was certain. At least, he was not ugly to her, although perhaps being able to see past his murderous ways allowed her to see the best in him physically as well.

He came to stand before her, and paused. "I… was going to escort you to work this evening, but I have plans. I know a new place where I might be able to land a gig if I hurry. It hasn't been open long and I'm sure they're looking for staff of all kinds."

Alaya nodded. "I don't need you to escort me anywhere," she assured him. "I've lived in this part of the city my entire life. I can… usually take care of myself."

Thrax looked doubtful, but shrugged. "I'll be back later." With that, he left quietly, and Alaya found herself silently dreading going back to work. She needn't have worried so much though. The day passed and she readied herself to go back to serve the rif raf in that cursed bar, but just as she was getting ready to open the door and leave, it burst open. She had to step back in order to avoid it, and found herself looking up at the wide grin on Thrax's face. It was strange… excited.

"Take of your silly bar outfit, you're coming with me."

"W…what?" she stammered in shock as he closed the door behind him, holding several long clothing bags in his free hand. One of these he shoved at her and she barely thought to take it. "What is this?" she asked suspiciously. Thrax was already removing the bag from one of the hangers he held and appraising a suspiciously familiar looking black jacket.

"It's going to be one of your new work uniforms. Go on, take a look." His smile never faded as he walked to the sofa and lay his jacket down in order to remove the rest of the clothing from the bags, except for a few which he lay on the other side of the sofa. "Those are yours too," he nodded his head toward them, busy taking a black and red suit off of its hanger.

Stunned, she finally managed to peel the plastic off of the garment he had handed her. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she touched the fine fabric in disbelief. It was a gorgeous, sleek black dress, with a deep V neckline and white crystal bands embellishing the gathered shoulder straps. "What… what is this?" she was unsure of what to ask. None of this made any sense.

Thrax turned to look at her again. "You're not going back to the bar. There's a new jazz club that opened up just a week or so ago not far from here. I got us both in," his grin spread. "Told them I was an imported virus from a vaccine. They were looking for a part time singer, a full time guard. I told them I could alternate, and they liked my style. Before I left I asked them if they could use a pretty bartender or waitress," here he winked at her and Alaya blushed profusely, "and they said sure, bring her with you. So if you do well tonight, you've got the job, no doubt about it."

Alaya was in shock. Both of her hands gripped the clothes hanger as if she were going to break it. "Thrax…" she breathed.

He laughed. "Thank me later. Go put that on, we don't have much time."

Finally Alaya regained some of her composure and managed to dart into the bathroom to change into the dress. It was perfect, he had guessed her size well. Or maybe he had peaked at her closet. Whichever way, the dress took her breath for a moment. She stared at herself in the mirror, unable to believe what was happening. She couldn't imagine this place that Thrax was taking her. Then something hit her.

"Wait a minute!" she poked her head out of the bathroom. "You're SINGING?" His casual humming had become almost a comfort to her, but she had never heard him sing. Ever.

During the time she'd been changing clothes and admiring the black dress, Thrax had slipped into the suit. It was black, with red shirt and black tie. He shrugged. "Only sometimes. I'll be a guard, keep the peace mostly if there's any trouble. Now come out of there, let me see your dress." When she stepped out into his view, the grin he gave her showed his teeth. "Haha!" He was obviously pleased. "Perfect, baby. Very… _hot_."

Alaya stuck her tongue out at him. "You would say something like that, Mr. Burn the City to the Ground."

A scowl replaced his previously untouchable smile, but she waved away the comment. "This dress is much too expensive," she complained, changing the subject. It worked. Thrax appraised her appearance.

"It was worth every cent. Now come on, we shouldn't be late to our first night of work. Here," with the side of his foot in a stylish pair of black leather shoes, he pushed a pair of shiny black shoes toward her. They were very fancy and sleek, but flat, not heels. Perfect for working, and she was grateful for his foresight. Once she stepped into them, he whisked her out the door.

The new jazz place was a little farther away than her usual job at the bar, and in the opposite direction. It was almost, but not quite, out of the worst part of town. It was right on the edge. Once inside, Alaya found herself feeling very out of place. The lights were comfortably dim, a little brighter on the stage where a band played softly and on the dance floor and the bar. The tables scattered around the room were round, and of the sleekest black. They were spotless. The various guests were all well dressed, moving around or sitting in groups of two or more.

Thrax moved her to a seat at an empty table as he went to speak to the manager. In a few moments, the manager, a round, cheerful red blood cell came to introduce himself to her and shake her hand. She explained to him her amount of experience bartending, and he showed her to the counter, pointing out what liqueurs were on which shelves and in what cabinets. Then he confidently left her to her work to show Thrax to the low stage at the very front of the room. As she looked nervously after him, he offered her a sly wink, and she waved a shy hand.

Customers in this place were generally much more pleasant than those of The Watering Hole. They were still a mixed crowd… some germs, some even viruses. Some she suspected were from vaccinations, as Thrax had lied and said he was, others were probably foreign ailments in the city of Frank posing as such… just like Thrax. However, all were much more refined that the crowd that frequented her old workplace, and most were quite friendly.

She was already serving her first customers when she heard the band pause, and a new song begin. The new voice that joined the music stunned her, and she paused in the middle of pouring a drink for an older virus gentleman to gaze with an open mouth at none other than Thrax. His voice was well suited for this type of music, not particularly low or high, but very smooth in song.

A soft chuckle broke her from her attention and she looked back to the virus she was serving. "I'm sorry sir," she apologized quickly, finishing his drink and pushing it across the counter to him with a friendly smile.

"It's alright, dear." The older virus's skin was pale, and his hair was short and black, heavily peppered with gray. As he took a sip of his drink, his eyes too wandered to Thrax on stage. "Fancy that one, do you?" he asked with a mischievous smile.

Alaya couldn't help but laugh. "No!" she giggled. "He's just a very good friend of mine… who never told me that he could sing like that."

The corner of his mouth tugged in a grin still, but he said no more. Both of their attentions were turned as the song ended and enthusiastic applause rewarded the musicians. Alaya clapped vigorously as well before reaching for another glass to fill another guest's order. As she was mixing some fruity drink however, words from the stage caught her attention, and she quickly finished the order and passed it off to the customer. The crowd had been throwing requests at the band and at Thrax, but Thrax simply smiled handsomely and held up his hands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'll be patrolling your club for the rest of the evening, but before I do, I've asked this wonderful group to play a special tune for a special friend of mine and I, since this is our first evening with you. If you've been for a drink in the past half an hour or so, you've already met my lovely friend, Miss Alaya." He motioned to the side of the room where she stood at the bar, and she blushed as there was soft applause for her as well. The crowd really seemed to feed on Thrax's natural style.

To Alaya's surprise, he stepped down off the low stage and made his way across the room, his eyes all the while on her. As he reached her there were a few whistles of encouragement when he held out his hand to her. For some reason, his familiar smirk made her blush. "Let's dance, baby." The band struck up a slow tune, one Alaya did not recognize. But then again she recognized very few of these new jazz numbers.

"Thrax I don't dance," she hissed, but his encouraging smile coaxed her into carefully taking his hand. A more triumphant smile split Thrax's normally grim features as he led her around the counter and out onto the softly lit dance floor with other couples who were dancing slowly to the music. He swept her around into a dancing position, one hand lightly on her waist. It was simple enough following his easy sway.

Alaya was quiet, looking shyly aside. Down, away, at his shoulder where her hand rested, anywhere but in his eyes. Thrax chuckled softly. "What's wrong?"

"I told you I don't dance," she muttered.

"But you are," he teased.

A moment of silence passed, then finally Alaya sighed. "Thank you."

"For what?" Thrax inquired, spinning her slowly away from himself and back in close.

"For this," her eyes motioned to their surroundings. "It's not what my dreams where in high school, but it's so much better than where I was stuck.

"Don't mention it." Was Alaya imagining it or did his grip become ever so minutely tighter about her waist? "You know… you really do look beautiful." Alaya blushed and did not reply, but Thrax was pleased enough with the response.

When the song ended, Alaya returned to the bar. "Well, let's give our musicians a rest for a little while. Let's give them a hand!" the announcer said charismatically. Enthusiastic applause followed, and then faded back to the soft hum of socializing. Much softer than the general noise in the bar Alaya was accustom to.

Thrax sat back in a chair across the room to relax at an empty table. Discreetly, he kept an eye on Alaya, not out of any worry for her safety in this place, but in simple admiration of her. For the first time in his life, he could admit that he was truly happy. It was a strangely uplifting feeling. Maybe he would tell her later. Yes…

"Hmph." A silken, bitterly cold female voice interrupted his thoughts. "Now what's a virus like you doing with a cell like that?"

Startled, Thrax sat up a little straighter and twisted in his chair to stare at the owner of the voice. A slender female virus, with the palest of blue skin and navy blue locks with shimmering silver eyes gazed back at him, displaying an impudent smirk. The pleasant smile that had come so easily just a moment before died on Thrax's lips.


	7. Chapter 7

**Ok, just a warning, some VERY cheesy names coming up in this chapter for my characters. Yes… it's pronounced "Ice"… Don't judge T.T Although I don't think you would ^_^ And I know that the way… well, you'll see who… gets into the body is not really practical, but hey, we're working on the principle that viruses and cells can climb and walk about like people, so why not? Anywho, it seems that our dear Thrax has a choice to make. What will he do now? We'll just have to wait and see ****^_~ ****Happy reading! Oh, and I wrote this rather quickly, just started working on it last night after I posted Chapter 6, so if you find any mistakes please let me know! I just couldn't wait to put it up.**

"What are you doing here?" Thrax hissed softly, glancing around to see if anyone was watching.

"_Chill_, Thrax" the female virus breathed, lifting the slender claw on her right hand to tap him lightly under the chin.

With a disgusted sound, Thrax jerked his head away. "For all purposes here, I'm Thane," he warned. He realized he had forgotten to mention his assumed name to Alaya, but doubted she'd be dumb enough to mention his real name to anyone.

The woman only smiled as she drew out a chair from the table to sit beside him. Thrax scooted his chair immediately so that he was facing her, not side to side with her. Her silver dress cut low over her chest, and split high up her left leg. It didn't seem to make her one bit uncomfortable.

"When did you get into this city, Iyc?" It was a demand this time, not a question. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. Just some non-descript, weak virus who didn't even have a name in medical records. Although he wasn't exactly one to throw accusations; he wasn't part of the medical books either. His namesake, Anthrax, was caused by bacterial infection, not viral. He often wondered what name the medical world would have dubbed him with, had his last venture succeeded.

Iyc stuck out her lip in a mock pout. "What? You aren't happy to see me, and after so long, darling? I see that you've got a new look." She reached to toy with a raven lock of his hair.

Thrax's glare was hard enough that it shot down her playful demeanor and she dropped her hand. "No, I'm not happy to see you. I was rather relieved that I haven't seen you in _so long_," he drawled. "You cling to one virus as easily as the next, whoever you're most smitten with at the time, and whoever can help you the most in whatever body you happen to be in since you don't have the guts to do anything yourself."

"I was in the city of Frank well before _you_ got here," she snapped in reply to his question, having no retort for his accusations. The shocked expression on his face made her cold smile return. "That's right, I know how terribly your shenanigans failed this time."

"We are not talking about that right now," he growled.

"I thought you were dead," she continued, ignoring his warning. "But here… here you are," she breathed. Her eyes scorched him as they raked down his chest. "Whole and well I see."

His hostile expression faded slowly and he sighed. "Yeah. Here I am."

"Well, not completely whole," she added in a matter of fact tone.

Thrax was immediately tense again. "What do you mean?"

"Ha," her soft laugh made him cringe. "Do you think I wouldn't know?" Her eyes trailed down to his clawed hand, resting on the table. "You wouldn't be here Thrax… not working in a goody-goody place like this, toying with that _she cell_ if something weren't… different, about you." Saying this, she reached out and gently traced her own claw down his larger one.

Resisting the urge to pull away, Thrax scowled at her. "Maybe I'm just playing it cool for a while until I make my next move."

The smile that graced Iyc's lips was purely evil. "I know you Thrax. Better than most people." The statement was highly suggestive, and he chose not to respond. "If you could have made a move, you'd have made it by now, while the inhabitants of Frank were still foolishly celebrating your destruction." Her shining eyes moved back up to his face. "But what if I told you that you could still help destroy this city?"

Thrax's heart leapt painfully into his throat. Was it possible? A chance to destroy the one city that had nearly destroyed him. But…

Guilty memories quickly flooded his mind. Alaya, an inhabitant of the city of Frank, taking him in when he was lying in an alleyway, dying. That same red blood cell providing for him, treating him like he belonged here, when he really belonged nowhere. And this was also her home. She would never forgive him… Then again, what had this city ever done for her? Nothing but forced her into a job she never wanted in a part of Frank where no one cared if she lived or died.

Iyc was waiting expectantly for him to say something. "Well?"

Thrax shot her a mistrusting look. "How are you supposed to have a plan to bring down a body? I was always the one who made room for you," he reminded. "How exactly do you plan on destroying the city of Frank?"

Her smile warmed temptingly. "I have a new friend I'd like you to meet." Then her eyes darted about the room. "Let's take this conversation elsewhere. Just for a few moments," she added when she saw the skeptical look in his eyes. "You can come right back to your guard duty." The last comment was a sneer.

Eyes darting about the room to make sure no one was watching, Thrax rose carefully with Iyc, and they made their way silently out of the room, where she led him behind the building through a back door into a dead end alley. Lurking in the shadows, was a well dressed virus who was probably a hand shorter than Thrax, but much broader. His shoulders were thick and muscular, with a wide, strong chest. Without Thrax's scorching infectious power, he had to admit that it would be a questionable toss up in a fight. His skin was pale, ghostly white, and his short, sleek hair was blood red to match his eyes. The tip of each of his fingers ended in menacing looking claws, although none were quite as long as Thrax's left foreclaw.

When the virus stepped forward to greet him, he wore a polite enough expression. Reaching out to shake Thrax's hand, he introduced himself. "Hello, my friend. Iyc told me about you when we noticed you in the club. I'm Van. HIV." As his smile widened, he revealed two long, deadly fangs.

Thrax was stunned when the other virus introduced himself with what he was. HIV… that was an immunity system's true worst night mare. How had this monster gotten into Frank? Sure, he was a careless slob, but as far as Thrax knew he wasn't promiscuous, nor did he work anywhere he was likely to come in contact with infected human blood. All this ran through Thrax's mind, but he didn't miss a beat. Squeezing Van's hand in a strong shake, he nodded. "Name's Thrax." He threw Iyc a stony look. "As you already know. I see you've easily found another virus to weaken bodies for you instead of doing the job yourself," he added, speaking to Iyc. If looks could kill, the one she gave him would have.

Van chuckled as he moved back to drape his arm around the female virus. "Iyc explained to me all that happened before I entered this body. I'm sorry that you were affected the way you were." His voice was sincere enough, but Thrax made no reply. Knowing that other viruses knew of his incapability to infect made him slightly sick and ashamed, but he would never let them know that. "In any case, you must know that I make way for other viruses… I weaken a body's immunity force, or eliminate as much of it as possible. I could use a good right hand virus like yourself… quick, cunning, classy."

When Thrax began to shake his head slowly, Van continued. "You could wreak havoc, my man. Once I take over this city, you could kill and maim to your heart's content; take revenge for what the immunity force did to you." His voice grew ever darker and more eager, as did Thrax's imagination. "You could even do your own damage in the hypothalamus. With the immunity out of the way, even without your infectious power, you could still cause a fever that would bring this city to its knees."

There was barely a twitch of expression on Thrax's face, but he felt a familiar yearning for destruction pleasantly filling his chest. For some reason, however, it was difficult to make his mouth work.

_Alaya…_

He took a deep breath, and rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck as he did so. Finally he found his tongue. "I'll think about it," he replied. "Give me time to plan."

Van nodded, obviously pleased. "You won't regret it, Thrax. That, I can promise you." He made way for Thrax as he moved by to head back into the club. "We know where to find you now. I'll come back to you when I'm ready to make my move. Don't take too long with your decision though." It sounded like a warning. "Once I enter a body, I may work slowly at first, but I don't wait forever."

Thrax nodded his understanding. "You can find me here any evening." Van and Iyc remained outside, and Thrax was acutely aware of their eyes on his back as he opened the back door leading back into the club. "By the way, how exactly did you enter this body?" The question seemed casual, uninterested.

Van chuckled. "It was difficult, in that hospital. I was barely able to hop onto his skin before they sanitized the human instrument I was clinging to. I almost didn't make it, had to climb all the way to his mouth to enter."

"I see," Thrax said simply, raising a brow. Then he turned and slipped back into the club, leaving the other two viruses to whatever they planned on doing.

The rest of his shift, Thrax casually patrolled the bar, making small talk with some of the customers who were curious enough to approach him. As he had predicted, since very few of Frank's inhabitants had met him in person, no one recognized him with his new hair and clothing.

For Alaya, the night seemed to fly by. The people were friendly, as was the manager, who soon told her that he'd be glad to have her as a full time employee, to which she eagerly agreed. At the end of their shift, she glanced around the room to find Thrax, and cheerfully made her way over to him after cleaning up the bar so that it was in order for the next bartender.

She couldn't help but wonder as she approached him, why his expression was so grim. When she reached him however, he spoke first. "Ready to head back?" he asked casually. She nodded, and exiting the club they began their walk home. Alaya was eager to talk, about many things. She wanted to thank Thrax again for finding this place, for giving her the boost of confidence she had needed to simply leave her old job behind. For some reason, however, Thrax didn't seem to be in any mood to chat, so she left him be. It was probably a big change for him, the transition between being a contagious virus to working at a jazz club in downtown Frank.

Once they got back to her apartment, Alaya slipped her shoes off and placed them carefully by the door for the moment. As nice as it had been, she was certainly ready to relax, and couldn't contain her bubbly mood any longer. "You sang amazingly, Thrax," she told him.

Offering her a weak smile, he gave her a simple "thanks" in reply.

"You have a nice voice she went on, heading toward her bedroom to change. Absent mindedly, Thrax followed her to the door.

"Thrax… is something wrong?" Alaya's soft question drew his attention and he glanced at her, watching as she quietly took the bobby pins out of her pinned up hair.

"No." He sounded tired, Alaya thought, and she reached out to poke him playfully in the ribs. Nothing could affect her mood at the moment.

"You can't be tired of your new job already," she teased. Then with a glimmer in her eye, she winked. "Same time tomorrow night?"

He couldn't help but crack a small smile at her playfulness. "I don't tire that easily," he retorted, but then his expression fell grim once again, and Alaya decided to leave him be.

"Well, goodnight." She slipped into her bedroom, tired of his gloomy demeanor, and leaving him to find the sofa.

"Goodnight, Alaya," he murmured distractedly. He had all but forgotten all that he had planned to tell her earlier in the evening after they had danced.


	8. Chapter 8

**I am SO sorry to everyone who read this before I edited this chapter... and THANK YOU so much to WulfLuvr22 for inadvertently making me realize that I... well that I was spelling someone's name wrong... you'll see at the end.**

**I've decided to start using something to try to divide the parts that are mainly from Alaya's point of view from the parts that are only Thrax's point of view. I know some of it is kind of mixed, but I think I want to make the distinction when it goes specifically to Thrax's point of view when he's away from Alaya. I feel like it was getting a little blurry and confusing XP **

**And oh my goodness as I was writing this I heard the perfect song lyrics! Listen to this: "**_**Everybody's got a dark side. Do you love me? Can you love mine? Nobody's picture perfect, but we're worth it, you know that we're worth it. Will you love me? Even with my dark side?"**_** If you're into the whole Thrax-soft side but still a hardened criminal-romance thing, it suits him pretty well XD Anyway, bleh, sorry for the long intro. The song was too big of a coincidence. Thank you all so much for the all of the kind comments ^_^ I get a little excited every time I see that there's a new review, and I'm so glad that you're enjoying it!**

A few days passed. Alaya was happier than she'd been in a long time, but she noticed that Thrax seemed increasingly sullen. He grew more snappish, and less interested in the work they were doing. He had purchased several stunning dresses for her aside from the black one, and they all suited both her body and the new club perfectly. He too had added some snazzy pieces to his wardrobe, but one evening before they were about to head off to work, she caught him thoughtfully looking over the long, trench coat jacket he had brought in on the evening he'd found work for them.

She was suddenly and painfully reminded that he was not some average cell as he spread the coat about as if examining it, revealing hidden folds that stretched out to surprising lengths. He had come to feel like a friend, as if he just somehow fit here. This reminded her all too well that Thrax was still very much a virus, if only a dormant one.

"Thrax?" Alaya said, after watching him a moment from behind.

"Hm?" He half turned in question, raising a brow coolly at her.

The words hung in her throat for a moment, threatening to stick to the roof of her mouth. "Are you happy here?"

The expression on his face was hard to read, something between surprise and some other emotion that he was unaccustomed to. "Happy?" Thrax repeated. His eyes moved back to the black coat as he quietly folded it away. No one had ever asked him if he was happy before. Well, not if they weren't being sarcastic anyway. "I'm fine, baby," was his answer.

Alaya was not satisfied. "I know you're fine… you're alive, you're working, you've got food and shelter. But are you happy? Are you content here in the city of Frank?" He would not meet her eye, and at first she thought that he wasn't going to answer her at all, but finally he did.

"It's unusual, I'll give you that. I've never stayed in one place for so long before. But…" he paused, looking back to her. "It isn't unpleasant. It is boring though," he added teasingly.

Alaya stuck her tongue out at him. "Whatever. You've been acting strangely for the past few days, ever since we started working at the jazz place." His expression hardened and she suddenly wished she hadn't brought it up.

"Have I?" His voice sounded so blank. It made Alaya shiver, but she would not back down that easily.

"Yes, Thrax, you have." Then she offered a kind, if slightly hesitant, smile. "I don't feel as though you've been happy here in Frank, and I realize it's nothing like your… usual line of work, but I hope you know that I… well that I'm here for you, anyway." She shrugged. It hadn't been a very graceful announcement, but it served the purpose.

Thrax's chuckle was cold and uninviting. "Where did you learn to be so available to people?" In response to her confused look, he continued. "You're always in that 'I'm here' mode, or at least you have been ever since I got here. Why are you like that? You were all alone, obviously no one cared to grant you the same courtesy you've been so adamant about giving me. So why would you even care?"

Feeling offended and somehow accused of something she couldn't explain, Alaya's expression darkened. "It wasn't always like this. Things happen to people, Thrax. I had friends. I had family. My parents were always kind. We had little to nothing, but they always did whatever they could for a cell in need. That's how they said people survived and thrived, even at the top, by being there for each other and helping each other." The look she gave him was poisonous. "Well guess what? Cells also die. Cells die and leave teenagers in high school to fend for themselves. That's when you really learn what it's like to need help."

Thrax was speechless, but Alaya continued.

"There were people who really helped me. But at some point, you have to take up for yourself and do something about your life. THIS was as good as I could do at the time, but it was enough to get me by. It felt better than depending on other cells' parents for everything. When you found the jobs at this new jazz place of yours, I thought that it was just a continuation of the cycle, that you were being kind to me for all I've done for you. But I guess not. I guess a virus doesn't think about things like that." She spit the last statement at him, glaring up at him fearlessly. "I'll be however I want to be. I dragged you off the street because I thought it was the right thing to do. Maybe it was wrong; maybe I had no reason to. But I will _not_ be sorry for it."

Thrax only stared at her. His jaw was tight, as if he were gritting his teeth. She was not afraid as most cells might have been. The virus had never offered to be violent toward her and she had completely lost her wariness of him. So, when she received no reply, Alaya whirled and stomped away to her bedroom to change into a dress to get ready for work, and slammed the door behind her as she went.

As they walked to work that evening, both were silent. They parted ways at the door, and Alaya took her place behind the bar rather grumpily. Another young cell had been hired on the shift to help with rising numbers of customers, and Alaya found relief in chatting with the younger girl and showing her how things were done.

* * *

Thrax cruised around in the background of the club all evening. He was in no mood to be pestered to sing, so he generally tried to stay out of the way. Walking slowly, he kept his hands folded loosely behind his back, watching the activities of the club with little interest except for the occasional glance over to Alaya.

He'd been such an idiot. It was something he'd never say aloud, but inwardly he was berating himself for his behavior. How was he supposed to know her parents had died when she was in high school? Now that he thought about it, he hadn't really cared why she seemed to have no family until now. His own family was very adamant about shoving children out on their own as soon as possible. A weak virus that couldn't survive on its own wasn't worth keeping anyway…

A small disturbance in the back corner of the club drew his attention from his grim thoughts. A white blood cell was standing in front of a table that seated a well dressed bacterium couple, and they were visibly bothered by whatever he was speaking with them about. The cell's voice was getting louder by the second, soon he would stick out above the active hum of voices around him.

Thrax gracefully made his way around the back wall to avoid as much commotion as possible, and walked up behind the white blood cell to tap him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, please don't harass the regulars."

"FPD dude, back off," the white cell snapped as he jerked around, batting Thrax's claw away. When their eyes met, both men froze.

"Jones!" The sound Thrax made was low and deadly.

"Oh my FRANK, Thra…..!"

"Thane!" Thrax snapped hurriedly. "Name's Thane."

"No it's not, you good for nothin' fungus lickin'…" Jones was reaching for the gun at his side, but Thrax quickly grabbed him up by the shoulder of his jacket.

"Sorry for the interruption y'all," Thrax smiled toward the bacteria couple. "There's just been a little misunderstanding. I'll talk to the gentleman, you two have a nice evening." With that he dragged the struggling Jones away to the back of the club in the dimness. "Listen to me a minute, Jones," he hissed.

"Listen to you? There's nothin' you gotta say that I wanna hear!"

"I'm not doing anything wrong here!" Thrax shook him by the shoulder that he still had a firm grip on. "I'm working. That's it."

"Yeah right, I bet you're the very virus I've been getting tips about!"

Thrax's eyes narrowed minutely. He knew suddenly what he had to do if he wanted to wriggle his way out of this, otherwise immunity would be all over him in a heartbeat. "You've been getting reports of a virus in Frank?"

"Yeah man. No one said he looked like you but I bet…"

"White skin. Red hair." Thrax's words stopped Jones cold.

"What do you know, man?"

"Are you going to stop throwing your little temper tantrum if I tell you?"

"No way. I'm taking your sorry cytoplasm to jail!"

Great. Now Thrax was going to have to kill the idiot.

* * *

Alaya thought her heart was going to jump out of her chest when she looked as she occasionally did to find Thrax in the background, and this time found him nose to nose with an immunity cell. "E-excuse me," she said hurriedly to the cell she was serving. "I believe my friend and I need to speak to the immunity. I'm sorry, please excuse me." With her hasty apology, she quickly rushed around the counter and slipped as discreetly as she could to the back of the room, making her way to Thrax.

Both Thrax and the white blood cell yanked their heads around to look at her simultaneously as she reached them. The face of the white cell stopped her in her tracks. She blinked slowly. "Ozzy!"

"A-Alaya," Ozzy stammered. His eyes darted to Thrax. "Look I'd love to catch up but we've kind of got a situation here…"

"You KNOW him?" Thrax hissed at her.

"Wait, you know HIM?" Ozzy's voice cracked.

"Shhh!" Alaya warned them, looking nervously back at the activity in the club. "Ugh, come on." Reaching out, she clutched both of them by the front of their jackets and proceeded to drag them outside. There was little resistance from the confused pair, although they were glaring daggers at each other the entire way.

Once outside, sheltered in the same alley that, unbeknownst to Alaya, had harbored Thrax's conversation with the infamous HIV virus, she came to a halt, and pushed them apart as much as possible, although they still seemed liable to tear into each other at any moment.

"What in the name of Frank is going on here!" Ozzy immediately burst out, flinging his arm in Thrax's general direction.

"I was trying to explain that to you if you didn't always insist on causing a scene!" Thrax growled. He flexed his clawed hand, itching to run something sharp through the immunity cell's obnoxious body.

"Ugh. Both of you, SHUT UP." Alaya's harsh snap stopped both of them momentarily and she sighed. "Thrax, I went to school with Ozzy. Ozzy, I saved Thrax's life."

Ozzy spluttered at the abrupt introduction, but Thrax smirked at her straightforwardness. "You did WHAT? How? W-wh-why?"

"That's none of your business Jones," Thrax snarled, leaning forward dangerously with his claw raised.

"Hey man!" Ozzy reached for his gun and Alaya leapt forward between the two.

"Thrax, tell him!" she pleaded.

"Tell me what?" Ozzy was trying to get an aim on Thrax around her, but Alaya wouldn't budge. Thrax pulled her against him protectively, away from Ozzy's gun.

Ozzy's eyes glanced at Thrax's hand around her waist, and he grimaced. "Geez, Alaya, you're not his whore are you?"

"NO!" Alaya and Thrax roared in unison.

"Ok, ok," Ozzy flinched. "Well what the cell is going on here then?"

Alaya looked up at Thrax, and he sighed.

"She saved my life, Jones. I've been staying here, working off some of what I owe her, so to speak." After a pause, he continued hesitantly. "I haven't been contagious since I managed to crawl out of that beaker of alcohol."

Despite her earlier irritation with him, Alaya felt a pang of sympathy for Thrax. He sounded ashamed and embarrassed. Ozzy, for once, seemed like he didn't know what to say.

"Well… what about this new virus then? What do you know about him?" His voice was much calmer, as if he'd had the wind blown out of him a little. He was still looking doubtfully at Alaya.

"New virus? What is he talking about?" Alaya looked up at Thrax, carefully removing herself from his grasp.

Thrax looked from Ozzy to her, and back again with a heavy sigh. "If you get me permission to legally reside in the city of Frank, I can help you get who you're looking for. He came to me a few nights ago, looking for a recruit, and he'll be back soon to see how I've considered his offer."

Ozzy too glanced at Alaya. She was still staring at Thrax with a confused and mildly hurt expression. "Alright," he finally said. "I'll see what I can do. What exactly are we dealing with here though?"

Thrax looked him grimly in the eye. "HIV."

* * *

**Yeah. I was spelling "Ozzy" as "Ozzie". So embarassing =S I quickly tried to go back and edit all the times I typed it, so if I missed one please let me know lol. As you can see, I tried to keep the name in touch with the characters... When Thrax is speaking, he's Jones. But when Alaya is talking or it's mainly from her point of view, it's Ozzy.**


	9. Chapter 9

****So, guess what? I have a new little mascot! A red or reddish purply halfmoon betta fish ^_^ He lives on my kitchen table in a divided 10 gallon tank, and his name is… wait for it… Thrax! What do ya think? XD And also, sorry this took so long! And that it's so short =( I'm stuck on how to word a very important part… so I cut off the beginning of the chapter so that I can post something for you. Hopefully I can figure out how I wanted the last half of this chapter to go soon.****

Back at Alaya's apartment, Thrax had grabbed up some clothing and was in the bathroom, changing. Alaya stood numbly at her bedroom door, still in the lovely red dress she'd worn for work, talking to him, her voice raised slightly so he could hear her through the closed door.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" she asked, her voice holding unspoken accusations.

"It didn't concern you at the time and I didn't want to scare you," was the muffled reply that came through the door. She could hear him quickly shuffling around, switching clothing. She hadn't seen what he'd taken to change into.

"Didn't concern me? An HIV virus plans to destroy my city but that doesn't concern me? And you… he asked you do be a part of his plan? Where you really considering it?"

At that moment, the bathroom door swung open, revealing Thrax dressed in the long black trench he'd been pondering over earlier, a familiar gray sweater, and black pants. Alaya blinked.

"It doesn't matter now. We're leaving."

"What?" Alaya was stunned.

"Change clothes, pack a bag… do whatever. But hurry. We're getting out of her before the cytoplasm hits the fan." He moved away into the living room. She noted he'd propped a pair of black sunglasses on top of his head.

"Where are we going?"

Thrax turned to give her a skeptical look. "We're leaving Frank. We can't be here when the immunity starts chasing Van."

Van, that must be the HIV virus's name, Alaya thought to herself. Surprisingly, she felt morbidly calm about all this. "I'm not leaving."

The words stopped Thrax in his tracks. "What?"

Alaya looked up at him, tearing her somber gaze away from the carpet at her feet. "I'm not leaving, Thrax. This is my home. I was here when you tried to burn it to the ground; I don't plan on leaving now. We've got a chance to help the immunity stop this guy, I can't just leave knowing that there was something I could have done to help stop it."

Thrax was gritting his teeth. "You don't just stop an HIV virus," he growled. "If you stay, you'll be destroyed with the city. The immunity _will_ fail. There is no other option, and no kind of medication that doctors can pump into Frank to solve this problem. The city will fall into chaos."

As he moved forward, Alaya met his eyes, and he stopped. She was absolutely determined. Nothing would change her mind. With a sigh, Thrax's shoulders drooped. "Fine. We'll stay."

"You don't have to stay; you can go," Alaya told him. "But this is where I belong."

Thrax grimaced, but continued. "I said, we'll stay. But you'll see that I'm right. There'll be no stopping him. Once it gets bad enough, I'm yanking you out of here anyway," he added, jerking his thumb back over his shoulder as if to indicate an imaginary exit.

Alaya smiled dimly before turning into her bedroom to change into more practical clothing. "I appreciate your concern." Her voice was dull, hopeless. But there had to be something that could be done… there just had to be. If Thrax could manage to lure Van in, along with the female virus he had described, then there was a chance that an immunity force could capture him and drop him out of the body some way.

* * *

With some difficulty, Ozzy had managed to convince the mayor and the chief of police that Thrax was important to their efforts. Everyone was skeptical. Leah had practically cursed him, wanting to know how he could be arguing FOR the virus who had so remorselessly kidnapped her. Drix had begun to lecture on why this was a bad idea. However, all of them knew, without some sort of viral help, they would never be able to subdue the HIV virus… even with Thrax it was a pitifully slim chance.

Ozzy and Drix showed up outside the club in Ozzy's car just in time to meet Thrax and Alaya before they went in to work. Thrax drew them all aside to avoid unwanted attention.

"You two keep your car parked around beside the joint. If you park in front and Van sees you," Thrax gave Drix a disapproving look, "then he'll be tipped off that something's up, and we'll lose our chance to lure him in."

Clearing his throat, Drix extended his hand awkwardly. "Now that we're working for the same side, I suppose I should formally introduce myself. I, am Drix. Drixenol."

Thrax smirked. "Still sporting that _nasty_ smell I see." He didn't make any move to shake the cold pill's hand.

"Hmph." The offended Drix crossed his arms and looked away.

Intervening for the sake of politeness, and to make up for Thrax's attitude, Alaya stepped forward. "Um… hello. It's nice to meet you." She offered her hand and Drix shook it with a smile, then offered Thrax a smirk. The virus's lip curled in dislike.

"Drips man, stop tryin' to be so darn nice," Ozzy griped.

"Drips," Thrax chuckled, but the two ignored him.

"Leah's already upset I convinced everyone that he should stay in the city. You don't need to go gettin' all friendly with the son of a…"

"If your girl isn't thrilled, Jones, you can always tell her I'd be glad to come back for a visit." Thrax was purposefully messing with the two now. He enjoyed every irritated reaction he squeezed from Jones. At the moment, he looked ready to blow his top.

As Alaya cleared her throat, she lay a hand on Thrax's arm. "Guys. Do you think we should be standing around like this? Come on, let's get to work." With a certain amount of hesitation, and a few nudges from Alaya in the right direction, the group disbanded.

Inside everything seemed like a typical night at the club. Alaya slipped behind the counter and began chatting with customers and serving drinks. Thrax began his usual prowl about the room, only this time, he felt a much more tense pressure. What was he thinking, betraying one of the most infamous viruses in the world…


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry about the long wait everyone -_- I've been so busy and bogged down with school work. I appreciate everyone's comments and I am soooo sorry that I haven't put up in a new chapter in so long XD Hope you're not too mad at me. Oh, and happy birthday to the Guest user who requested I post a new chapter on their birthday :D Sorry that it's so short, but it's what I've got done :)**

It became a particularly lively evening. The music was good; tasteful but quite energetic. There were a few nights since they had come to work here that Thrax had been asked to sing. He was trying to avoid that tonight if he could, and any night until Van returned. He had to be ready to alert Jones at any moment. However, the night seemed uneventful. It was getting very close to time for he and Alaya to leave.

During one of his short breaks, he found an empty table to seat himself at near the back of the room to keep an eye on things. It wasn't long before a cool voice sent a chill down his spine.

"Hey stranger."

He whipped his head around to see Iyc approaching him. Rather than sitting with him though, she stood behind his chair and trailed a finger across his shoulders. "Have you been doing some thinking?" she purred.

With the warmest smile he could muster, Thrax responded. "Of course I have."

To his surprise, she took him by the arm and pulled him to his feet. "Dance with me," she cooed, batting her eyes alluringly at him.

The thought put a scowl on Thrax's face, but he let her lead him to the floor anyway. "Is Van ready to make his move?" he questioned as Iyc slid herself in front of him and stretched her arms around his neck. Her face was uncomfortably close to his.

"Definitely," she said with a strange smirk. "Are you in?"

"How could I refuse?" Thrax replied lowly.

"Oh really?" The sneer that Iyc gave him made his stomach twist uncomfortably and her arms tightened around his neck. She looked as if she wished to say more; Thrax could tell there was something cold and venomous just on the tip of her tongue, but as the song ended she pushed him away. Just as she did, a scream rent the air and everyone in the bar stopped in the middle of what they were doing.

Realizing with a jolt of fear that it had been Alaya's cry, Thrax's eyes darted up to the bar, where she was missing. Iyc slipped away into the crowd as cells began to mill about, confused and startled. As Thrax began to realize what was happening, he wanted to go after her, strangle her for her distraction… but there was no time. Somewhere, Van had Alaya…

They wouldn't stay in the bar, not after they'd made this move. With a quick glance around, Thrax took the nearest exit just in time to see Alaya being dragged into a discreet, gray car

"Jones you idiot! Go after that car!" Thrax's chest heaved, repressing the urge to run after them down the street. There was no way he could catch a vehicle on foot.

"Why? What are you talking about dude?" Ozzy and Drix were giving him incredulous looks from inside the white cell's car.

"That's the HIV virus and Iyc… They've got Alaya!" He was screaming at them now.

"Oh… OH!" It suddenly clicked and Ozzy was fumbling with the controls in the car. "Here we go man!" As he sped away Thrax could hear Drix complaining.

"O-Osmosis! Be careful… I said be careful!"

Thrax shook his head, putting his face in his hands as he stood there alone on the street corner. What had he done?


End file.
